


Wandering Steps

by whYJayteesee



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Gen, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 23:20:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7777630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whYJayteesee/pseuds/whYJayteesee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Hogwarts, there are mirrors that show what one desires, and rooms that give whatever is most needed at the time. Who can distinguish between something extraordinary happening, and the average magical door? </p><p>Daemons AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wandering Steps

Torches glowed dimly along the corridor, barely flickering as Harry raced past, invisibility cloak flapping along in his wake.

One hand was curled gently but firmly over a lump in the pocket of his robes. Under his other arm was an old book, and with his left hand, he grasped the two outer edges of the cloak tightly in an attempt to keep himself completely covered.

He thought the slamming door on the third floor had probably thrown Filch off, but Mrs Norris was often harder to fool. Between the man and his daemon, Hogwarts at night was a dangerous place for students out of bed indeed. Therefore, it was only when he finally reached the bottom of the steps that would take them back to the safety of the seventh floor and Gryffindor Tower - with no furious caretaker in sight - that Harry paused to catch his breath.

“We lost them somewhere on the fourth floor,” came a tiny voice, sounding exasperated and a little amused.

“What, and you couldn’t have said that earlier!?”

Annoyed, Harry reached into his pocket as he began to climb the stairs. But it was empty. He could feel the prickling of tiny clawed feet up his arm through the fabric of his robes though, and only huffed a little when he felt a bushy tail curl round the back of his neck.

“Well, whose fault was that?” She teased, “You’ve got nettles in your pocket, by the way. When was the last time you had these robes washed? Before the holidays?”

Lunete’s complaining did little to hide the relish in her voice, and Harry could not help the tiny grin that curled his lips. Running into Filch had been terrifying that first night partly due to the screaming book. This time, even hampered by the volume Harry forgot to put down, they managed to execute all their usual Dudley-diversion tactics to greater effect than usual.

The relief and exhilaration from their successful escape had rather distracted the two, but Lunete was the first to take note of the tell-tale grinding of stone on stone.

“Moving staircase!” she warned moments before the stone steps came to life, and they were brought swivelling around a hundred and eighty degrees to end at another section of the seventh floor.

Harry, who had clutched at the bannister for support as soon as Lunete opened her mouth, straightened shakily and paused, smoothing her ruffled fur before continuing on. Both were in agreement without needing to communicate: turning around to take the longer way back would risk their exposure to Filch again. They had gotten away the last time, but no one could be lucky forever.

 

*******

This corridor was unfamiliar to them both. Harry was a little surprised that Lunete had not already explored the floor, as it was her habit in new places. However, he was glad for that since they hadn’t spent time together completely alone and in peace for a long while.

She emerged from under the cloak in the form of a medium-sized grey dog. Keeping close to the walls where the shadows cast by the flames were darkest, she said to Harry, “It’ll be fine. I’ll hear if anyone does come along.”

“And you noticed Professor Dumbledore back in the mirror’s room right away, did you?”

“That was Dumbledore! If he was trying to be unnoticeable, even Professor McGonagall would miss him!”

 

*******

They walked on, conversation wandering from that afternoon’s disastrous chess match with Ron, to the white mice from Christmas dinner that had turned up in the bathroom toilets, to how much holiday work Harry had not started on.

Bringing up last night’s meeting with the headmaster had not been a good idea though, because he was quite distracted even as he bantered good-naturedly with Lunete.

In his mind’s eye, there was a pair of warm smiles, messy black hair, bright green eyes, and Lily Potter still waving. Not for the first time, Harry found himself trying to imagine what his parents were like, what life would be like for him and Lunete if they had not been killed. And though this was the best Christmas he had ever experienced, he wondered how it would feel if he could spend it with family, as Ron did with his brothers. Did that make him selfish? Unrealistic? It was all too unfair. Why did Voldemort choose to attack them? What was the point of killing all muggleborns and muggles anyway?

More than a little preoccupied, Harry did not notice when his wand was caught by a fold in his cloak. It rolled to the floor, and only when Lunete doubled back did he turn around. She held the stick of holly delicately between her teeth and waited till he was close enough before leaping, changing into a stout forest cat mid-jump. The boy caught her, a little surprised, but tucked his wand away, wrapped the cloak around them both and had just begun to continue on his way when something odd happened.

An arched door suddenly appeared on the stretch of wall to his left.

One moment there was nothing there at all, and the next it was standing tall, mysterious and inviting.

It was then that Lunete’s ears perked up, “Someone’s coming round the corner,” she said.

 Though they were invisible, it was probably best to not test their luck by standing out in the open. Doors pretending to be part of the walls was hardly uncommon, and it was lucky for them there was even one here. As quietly as possible, Harry grabbed the handle and pulled so there was just enough space for him to slip in, then closed the door behind him once he entered. When he turned around to take in the room he had just dodged into, Harry gasped in awe.

 

This was no classroom.

Besides the high windows offering a view of the night sky, it hardly seemed like it could be a room in a forgotten corridor of an old castle. Larger than two Great Halls put together, illuminated by torches on each pillar, with an arched ceiling like a cathedral Harry had once seen on the Dursleys’ telly - it held what looked to him like a small city of furniture, rubbish and old belongings.

He approached slowly, wanting to see everything. Lunete squirmed in his arms and he released her, rolling his eyes but smiling slightly as she immediately shot off to nose at the nearest display cupboard.

Once, there had likely been an attempt at organisation that had long since been abandoned. In the back half of the chamber, through some maze-like alleyways, the objects were roughly sorted into their respective categories. A large number of old potions vials and bottles had been stuffed into cabinets and in boxes piled next to them; congealed potions and strange shimmering liquids were still visible through dusty glass or crystal. There were piles of robes, and towels and curtains, even a luxurious fur cloak (that upon closer inspection, was stained a suspicious dark colour). Damaged and broken furniture formed the crooked walls of the city, singed, with missing legs or holes blown through.

If the furniture were the walls, then books were buildings. In towering shelves and tottering piles, thousands and thousands of them occupied almost a fourth of the space.

From the corner of his eye, Harry saw Lunete back away from a mountain of probably once-magical toys. Something dark, hairy and fast scuttled back in when she stood her ground and snarled. In the depths of the huge pile of objects, something shifted. He hurried over to pick her up.

“Just a doxy, Harry,” she explained, eyes still narrowed at where it disappeared.

“Yeah. With teeth and venom and nests. You can try again when you learn to turn into something that eats them.”

There was laughter before anything else could be said.

Alarmingly enough, it wasn’t from either of the two.

 

*******

From behind the pile, a bright green snake slithered out, forked tongue flickering out to taste the air. Harry didn’t need Lunete’s murmured warning to tell it was another daemon, or that the laughter had not come from her.

Somebody cleared his throat behind them.

As Harry turned to face the newcomer, Lunette jumped to the floor, tail lashing, and the snake glided smoothly past to join the other wizard.

“Only fifth years and up are allowed to be out at nine, and it’s currently half-past that,” the boy half-smiled, expression brightening his face. An older student, tall - maybe fourth or fifth year - probably not a prefect, although there was no way to know for sure, a Slytherin… This could very well be the person Lunete heard approaching the corridor.

If only they hadn’t been so distracted by the room.

“Already?” Harry tried to look startled, “I should be getting back then. Must have lost track of time looking around. Do you know the way to Gryffindor Tower from here?”

The other stared pointedly at the cloak and library book still in Harry’s arms.

“No need to get nervous, I’m not about to report you,” he said pleasantly, “It’s just surprising to see someone in here. How on earth did you get in?”

Which meant they were all up after hours, and no one would be telling on anyone else tonight, “...I… it was an accident that we found it, really.”

“Oh, then you were looking for something else?” His daemon had coiled herself at his feet and was staring lazily at Lunete, who was boldly glaring at her right back.

“Yes. Any corridor leading straight to our common room,” Lunete answered shortly before Harry could open his mouth, then turned to him, “we need to go back. Filch should be gone by now.”

If the Slytherin boy was surprised by her rudeness, or alarmed by the mention of Mr. Filch, he did not let it show. “Can you remember the way out?” He asked Harry, who turned towards the gap in the wall of shelves and chairs he remembered stepping through, except – there was nothing there. At his look of bemusement, the older boy’s polite smile deepened. “Just follow me.”

As he walked, the green python at his side became a goldfinch which flew to perch on his shoulder. Lunete was not pleased, but followed without further complaint.

“Have any other students come here before?” Harry asked, curious.

“I suppose they must have. How else do you think all these things got into the room?” He paused, “but I have to say, the both of you are the first I’ve ever seen in here.”

Not quite knowing what to say to that, but remembering all the times Hermione had quoted _Hogwarts, a History_ , Harry told him, “Well, it’s probably had more than a thousand years to build up this collection. And you never know – the room might be nicking things on its own.”

There was a moment of silence, then the boy grinned, “now isn’t that a disturbing thought?”

They soon reached the entrance of the chamber and parted. Harry made a mental note of the tapestry on the adjacent wall and large vase in the corridor. He and Lunete continued following the path they had been on before the strange room appeared, and found themselves on familiar ground.

 

*******

Back in the Room of Requirement, even further in than Harry had ventured, the Slytherin boy settled himself on a squashy chair next to a large table (made whole with a simple reparo, of course. Why that had not been done in the first place, he would never know). Historical records, books on magical objects and still more with ancient, stained covers were stacked in neat piles on its surface.

As if he had eyes on the back of his head, he turned the page of the book on his lap and said, “So you noticed as well, I suppose.”

The goldfinch on the backrest of his chair would have rolled her eyes if she could. Instead she let her silence speak for her.

“The cutting of his robes, shape of that Gryffindor lion… and his book…from the library, I believe,” he shut the tome in his hands with a snap.  _A History of Magical Discoveries_ , said the gold text embossed on its dark and crisp cloth binding. Exactly what Harry had tucked under his arm. Except…

“The recommendation from Professor Slughorn,” the daemon spoke for the first time, voice deep and silky. Gentle and refined as always.

“Yes, published this year too. Only a hundred and fifty editions printed – rather expensive. In fact, Hogwarts only has this one copy, and that was because Dumbledore’s work was enough to fill a chapter,” he propped an elbow on the armrest, leaned to the side and looked up at her.

“Now Eiri, even if that one was a personal copy, is it not somewhat strange that the little Gryffindor’s is as tattered and yellowed as it was?”

 

*******

At breakfast the next morning, Ron took one look at the dark circles beneath Harry’s eyes and asked worriedly, “You didn’t go back looking for the mirror, did you?”

This reminded Harry of the stolen library book back in Gryffindor Tower.

“No, I just thought of something that might help us find Flamel.”

He looked up and down the table for some sign of the Slytherin boy. There were so few students staying for the holidays, that after a week of meals together, he thought he could recognize all of them at least by sight. That must have been why the boy had seemed so familiar. But he was disappointed to find no head of inky black hair anywhere.

“And you… stayed up all night thinking about it?”

“I snuck out to the library to check if I was right!”

“And were you?”

Later when Harry left to fetch the book, Ron who was dragged from his breakfast by Fred and George along with poor Percy, got more details out of Branwen.

“She said they got chased down by Filch and Mrs Norris but didn’t get caught. Still, I have a feeling she left something out. Probably thinking about that silly mirror or - ”

Suddenly, Bran was cut off courtesy of a large snowball which toppled her from Ron’s hand and buried her in snow. Almost immediately, a goshawk emerged from the tiny icy mound with a scream and began dive bombing the pair of monkeys below. Ron glared at Fred and George from behind his fort, forming ammunition as fast as he could, and making sure to keep an eye out for Percy.

What he could do with some enchanted snowballs…

Thus drawn into this great battle, they set aside the topic of Harry’s midnight wanderings for another time.

 

*******

Meanwhile, Harry was already up in the dormitory sprawled across his bed, _A History of Magical Discoveries_ propped open on a pillow.

“At least it isn’t completely useless,” he said a little weakly.

“Yes, very helpful. All that excitement last night and here we are learning about Professor Dumbledore’s research into laws of transfiguration,” she deadpanned. Although it was fascinating to learn about their headmaster outside of Hogwarts, they weren’t making any progress in solving the puzzle of the mystery parcel.

“They definitely know each other though. Close enough for Flamel to be working with Dumbledore on this.”

“Mmm. That was a good starting point. Problem is, we don’t know if he’s famous or accomplished enough to get himself published.” Lunete stretched out on the pillow in her preferred bobcat form, one paw on the book, “and this was practically our last hope.”

It sounded depressing, but Harry looked up at her with the sudden excitement of a dawning idea, “there’s one place we’ve not checked!”

That unbelievably large room they had found yesterday: there were loads more books just lying around in it.

At her flattened ears and disbelieving look, Harry sighed, “Hey, no one except us is going to want to spend a bright day like this in a room full of rubbish. Even _we_ are only doing it because of the whole…” he waved his hand at the situation in general, attempted Gringotts theft, Fluffy the deadly three-headed guard dog and all.

“Anyway, it’ll just be for a quick look around.”

Harry was wrong. On both counts.

“Did you…sleep here overnight?” He asked the Slytherin, breaking the loud silence that had fallen when he and Lunete were lured to the apparent campsite by the sound of voices.

His daemon’s tail twitched, but the other said smoothly, “certainly not. We came in first thing in the morning.”

He and his daemon were sharing an armchair. Beside them was a desk that had likely seen better years. It groaned under the weight of several stacks of books. Light from the tall window behind shone through the glass, glinting off the boy’s slightly mussed, jet-black hair and the reddish brown fur of the fox at his side.

“Right,” said Harry dubiously, “we’ll just be off over there,” he gestured at the shelves barely visible over mountains of other things in the distance. But before he could turn back and retrace his steps, the other student got to his feet and held out his hand.

“Apologies for the late introduction. I’m…Tom Riddle. It’s a pleasure to meet you again. And this is Eirian,” he indicated the fox still curled up in the chair, “should have introduced ourselves last night, but I didn’t think we’d be meeting again this soon.”

Harry shook it awkwardly, “I’m Harry. Harry Potter. And Lunete is over there by the stuffed troll. She can be a bit… shy.” He didn’t know how else to explain her inexplicable dislike for this Tom Riddle. Even she couldn’t explain it herself. It was just as well that daemons in general preferred to speak to their own human, and that Tom didn’t seem like the easily offended sort.

He was pleasantly surprised that there had been no upward flick of the eyes to his forehead though. Despite having become somewhat used to it after four months, Harry still remembered when that scar was once his favourite part of his own appearance. These days he wished there was some way to hide it.

 

*******

While it was true that Tom had not expected to see Harry again, he was hardly one to deny an opportunity for investigating this little curiosity. He had made no progress in his personal projects for weeks and any form of amusement would be welcome at this point.

Some hours later when he felt enough time had passed, Tom gathered his things, cast the usual protective curses around his corner, and called Eirian back from her adventures. As he walked, her voice was a soothing murmur next to his ear, informing him of what new objects had appeared. The young wizard had long since set aside thoughts of finding out what fuelled the magic of this strange room, though it was still fascinating to know it never stayed the same.

Finally, they reached the area cluttered with haphazardly placed bookshelves that were really more like a maze. There was no system of sorting at all - Tom knew that only too well.

If you were looking for a particular topic, you either had to go through them all one-by-one or summon all the books with the pertinent keyword in their title. Harry had opted for the former, with Lunete as a monkey reading off titles from the top-most levels.

“What are you looking for?”

Harry nearly jumped a foot into the air. He whirled around to see Tom Riddle leaning against a shelf, amusement bright in his eyes and Eirian in his arms.

Lunete dropped to Harry’s head, landing as a squirrel and whispered a disgruntled, “Suspicious…and nosey too!” He ignored this. She usually had very good instincts about people and would warn him of them – but sometimes it was just plain dislike.

“Nothing important,” he replied, kicking himself even as the words left his mouth.

Yet Riddle didn’t point out the obvious lie. “I’ve been through at least half the books here. It’d probably save you some time, at least.”

Harry eyed the shelves and boxes, considering the offer but also a little incredulous at hearing that. It seemed to him like he’d just met something of a Slytherin Hermione. It might not be safe to reveal Flamel’s name directly, but if they could come up with a list of people and sources, then he would only need to wait until Tom left to pick up the right one.

After a while he asked, “have you ever heard of Professor Dumbledore collaborating with anyone?”

Which explained why the little lion had that particular book last night. Eirian sniffed, turning to glace at Tom. He looked rather pleased. Only, no one knew him as well as she did, so no one else could tell.

“He had quite the career before Hogwarts. Did you have any particular discipline in mind?”

That was the question Harry needed answered, but if he wanted a chance at finding it sometime before next year, he’d have to give his best guess now. They could always widen the scope of the search later. Keeping this in mind, he thought hard about the parcel and replied, “Maybe crafting something? Something small?”

 

*******

Later that night, after dinner and hearing the tale of the Afternoon Battle on Hogwarts Grounds twice over, Harry finally crawled under the covers of his four-poster bed. It was late, and Ron was probably asleep or nearly there. He laid on his side watching Lunete as she chose her spot and settled down, tucking her paws under her body for warmth.

“…do you think it was right to let those two in on so much?”

“It’s a little late to worry about that, don’t you think?” She snorted, but gentled her tone a little when his unease shifted into worry, “as long as they don’t get anything else out of us after today, it should be fine.” Her almond shaped eyes, dark in the absence of direct light, were barely visible in the dull glow of the lamp on the bedside table.

Harry nodded slowly, “then once we manage to find Flamel in that pile…”

“We beat a strategic retreat!”

“Lunete!”

“Tom Riddle may seem perfectly normal, but there’s something off about his daemon, and that says something about him too.”

Harry had not missed the looks those two were shooting each other back in the room. It was strange because she was never usually this easy to antagonize.

“What has she done?” He asked, curious. They literally met for the second time in their lives today.

Lunete shook her head, “it’s just a feeling I got.” At his dubious look, she sighed and added, “but I can’t be absolutely sure. Let’s just keep observing them tomorrow. And stop getting distracted by all his little stories!”

 

*******

Hermione Granger and Nestor returned to Hogwarts pleasantly surprised to find the other two had not idled away their holidays. _Achievements in Alchemy_ sat on the table between them, already open and waiting.

“Nicholas Flamel and his Philosopher’s Stone. This is amazing! How did you manage to find it, Harry -”

Sitting diagonally across from her, Ron cleared his throat.

“…and Ron…? Well done! I thought we must have searched everywhere possible already.”

“Well,” said Ron, mollified. He glanced at Harry who gestured for him to continue, “ _that_ is a long story, and it began on Christmas morning…”

**Author's Note:**

> lol this is the only chapter i have properly edited and actually complete /o\
> 
> (probably shouldn't be posting rn, but exams are ending in two days and i need to have something out to make sure i don't procrastinate too much once i smell the freedom)


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